


four walls that enclose the right person

by stellahibernis



Series: an approximation of domesticity [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, home is their haven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: Bucky coaxes Steve to lie down half on top of him, and it only takes a few minutes for Steve to doze off. Add another few and he’s sound asleep. Bucky feels fairly satisfied with his efforts, noting that there’s still some residual tension in Steve, but it’s slowly seeping away.


  Half an hour later Steve’s phone lights up on the coffee table with a text alert, and Bucky picks it up to see if it’s anything important.

Nat: I hear youre backNat: Were coming for breakfast btw

  Bucky frowns and fishes out his own phone and sends her a reply.

Me: Whoever that we is the answer is NOMe: I’m locking the door and turning the alerts off

  As soon as he hits send he regrets his word choice, because while Sam or Wanda would just leave it at that, it does sound like he’s having a mood and is saying no just because. Nat usually takes this kind of a thing as a challenge.

***
In which Steve needs to recharge, Bucky threatens to shoot people and Nat sends gifts.





	

It’s late afternoon and Bucky’s just putting away the clean dishes when his phone beeps announcing Steve is about to be in. He’s had a quiet day, a quiet couple of days really, while Steve was away at a security conference in D.C. He’s got on sweatpants and Steve’s t-shirt that’s worn thin and soft, hair pulled back in a loose bun.

It’s a contrast to Steve, who’s still wearing a suit when he comes in, even if he’s not quite as put together as he probably was when he dressed up in the morning. His collar is open and tie stuffed somewhere, probably in his pocket. There’s tightness at the corners of his eyes, a sure sign of tiredness to Bucky, even if most people wouldn’t see a thing.

Before either of them has even managed a greeting Bucky steps closer to pull Steve in his arms. Steve lets his bag drop to floor while he buries his face against Bucky’s neck and just slumps against him. Bucky leans his head against Steve’s, works his hands inside Steve’s jacket and lets the knowledge that Steve’s at home settle in. He hasn’t been worried, since the security at the event was solid, and he hasn’t been restless for any of the number of reasons he has to occasionally be so. Their home is their haven, safe and calm even when one of them is gone, but Bucky still always misses Steve’s presence.

Sometimes he wonders if it used to be like that before, if he just slightly missed Steve every time they were apart. He wonders if there was that almost imperceptible ache at the middle of his sternum, or if he thought it was fine since they would see each other soon enough. He can’t remember. There is the memory of the very visceral ache when he shipped off to Europe, but nothing from before that when they lived in New York.

“Any trouble?” Bucky asks, just to make sure.

Steve rolls his head against the crook of his neck as a sign of negative. “It was just, you know. Politicians.”

It confirms to Bucky that the source of Steve’s fatigue is exactly what he expected. He thinks it’s kind of funny how Steve can fight days on end and stay sharp, but two days among politicians and their ilk wears him down, when it’s nothing but listening to speeches, having fancy meals and socializing in glitzy rooms. It isn’t physical fatigue, not really, even if Steve could probably fall asleep right there if he let himself. He also could go and defend the Earth from an alien invasion if a need arose for him to do so. It’s mental tiredness, something Bucky does remember from back before the war. They’d thought it was a symptom of Steve generally getting tired fairly easily, but it had still been there after the serum. Easier to ignore, but there nonetheless.

Back when Steve bought the old factory and remodeled part of it into his apartment, it surprised many of the Avengers. They’d assumed he’d stay in the Tower where most of them stayed at least semi permanently now that the various rifts created within the team had been mended. Bucky though, he hadn’t been the least bit surprised. It made sense to him, like some things about Steve just did, and still do, without him knowing why. Steve needed a space that was his own, somewhere he could retreat and recharge his batteries in.

Bucky thinks he’ll never stop being grateful that he can be here, in Steve’s home that now has become his home too, because Steve wants him there always. Grateful that his presence doesn’t shatter the calm Steve has created.

“Are you hungry?” he then asks, because Steve almost always is, and it’s a surprise when he makes a sound of denial, still slumped against Bucky.

“Tony had people bring about a million sandwiches on the plane on our way back,” Steve offers as an explanation, which Bucky should have probably expected.

“Does he still insist on those weird egg salad things? That taste like something that’s definitely not egg salad?”

“Yeah. I’ve taken to just let him preach and eat something else, at least he provides variety. Sometimes I think it’s because he’s determined to showcase how many different kinds of gluten free bread there is.” Steve pulls back and picks up his bag. “I’m getting a shower,” he says, and aims a sloppy kiss at Bucky that lands on the corner of his mouth.

Bucky laughs silently and pushes him toward the bedroom. “Go, you reek of airports.”

“Can’t imagine how, since I didn’t even see one. The perks of flying with Tony, straight from car to plane to car,” Steve tosses over his shoulder.

He strips off his jacket as he goes, and Bucky thinks, not for the first time, that however much the tailor cost it was worth it, since the jacket sits perfectly on Steve’s improbably shaped torso.

He puts coffee on and takes a few chocolate pastries out on the coffee table in the living room. Steve might not be hungry, but it doesn’t mean he can’t eat. He also has a definite sweet tooth, a fact that shouldn’t surprise anyone considering the amount of calories he needs to consume, but apparently does.

While the coffee drips Bucky listens to Steve move about in the bedroom before the shower comes on, probably unpacking and putting everything where it belongs, because he’s never been big on having things out of place. Bucky spends probably a ridiculously long time selecting mugs for them, finally settling on a sleeping cat for himself and the _Keep calm and carry on_ mug for Steve. Their collection of humor mugs keeps growing, new ones appearing every once in a while after their friends have been visiting. They do have a set of non-humor mugs, but as far as Bucky knows, they’ve never been used.

Bucky pours the coffee and adds sugar and cream just as Steve comes out, also in their home uniform of sweatpants and t-shirt, his hair sticking every which way. He’s wearing socks even though it’s early fall and still warm. For all that he radiates heat like a furnace, he still seems to get chilly fairly easily. Bucky suspects it’s mostly psychosomatic, but since it doesn’t cause problems, he’s just left his observations lie.  Steve seems to only realize he might potentially be cold when he’s comfortable enough to relax, and putting on more clothes isn’t really a chore.

After they’re done with the pastries and coffee Bucky coaxes Steve to lie down half on top of him, and it only takes a few minutes for Steve to doze off. Add another few and he’s sound asleep. Bucky feels fairly satisfied with his efforts, noting that there’s still some residual tension in Steve, but it’s slowly seeping away. There’s only the slightest hint of his near perpetual frown between his brows.

Bucky lets his mind wander, not really thinking about anything in particular. He’s perfectly comfortable, he made sure of it as they settled since he knew Steve would fall asleep, and there’s nothing he needs to do. He traces patterns into Steve’s back, his touch light enough to not make Steve stir.

Half an hour later Steve’s phone lights up on the coffee table with a text alert, and Bucky picks it up to see if it’s anything important. He has to switch hands to type Steve’s password, which isn’t any of the common or even easily guessed ones, since of course Steve has taken to heart the lecture about strong passwords. Besides, if one has a photographic memory, remembering complicated passwords isn’t going to be an issue. Steve resettles on top of him, maybe subconsciously realizing the loss of contact now that Bucky’s hands are not on him, tucks his face closer at the crook of Bucky’s neck and slides his hand under Bucky’s ribs, as if to make sure he’s not going anywhere.

Bucky is distracted by it for a moment and the screen goes dark. He has to retype the password before getting to the messaging app.

_Today 5:40 PM_  
_Nat: I hear youre back_  
_Nat: Guess you didnt throw a tantrum since theres nothing on news_ _  
Nat: Were coming for breakfast btw_

Bucky frowns and fishes out his own phone and sends her a reply.

_Today 5:46 PM_  
_Me: Whoever that we is the answer is NO_  
_Me: Steve needs downtime_ _  
Me: I’m locking the door and turning the alerts off_

As soon as he hits send he regrets his word choice, because while Sam or Wanda would just leave it at that, it does sound like he’s having a mood and is saying no just because. Nat usually takes this kind of a thing as a challenge, and granted, most of the time her response is the correct one, to not let Bucky stew in it in a way that Steve is still more likely to let happen. Hence her reply is entirely predictable.

_Natalia: Bet I could breach it_  
_Natalia: Or talk Tony into doing it for me_ _  
Me: Unless you want another bullet hole you wont_

Bucky knows it’s not the kind of reply to diffuse the situation, but his temper is much closer to surface these days, and arguing about this isn’t really how he imagined spending his afternoon.

_Natalia: If you do that Steve will break out his :(_  
_Me: Which is why YOU WONT_  
_Me: Do not try to guilt trip me Natalia_ _  
Me: Im serious this time_

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, realizing the only way to get out of this is to explain. He knows Steve won’t mind, it’s mostly something she already knows anyway.

_Me: Listen_ _  
_ _Natalia: ?_

Her reply seems to indicate she’s picked up he’s not just messing around, and he types out the next messages in rapid succession. He prides himself for being the fastest texter out of the Avengers, excluding Tony who cheats by talking to Friday instead of actually typing.

_Me: I know youre used to pushing him to socialize_  
_Me: usually youre right to do it too_  
_Me: But not now_  
_Me: Trust me he needs time to wind down_  
_Me: He loves having you all here_  
_Me: But sometimes he really needs you to not be here_ _  
Me: Home has to be a place where he can be alone when he needs it_

There’s a moment before her reply comes, meaning she probably thought about it, slotted the information into the picture she has of Steve inside her head.

_Natalia: got it_  
_Natalia: I figured it was something like that when he didn’t stay at tower_  
_Natalia: didnt think hed be so drained by only a couple of days at the conference though_  
_Me: Yeah_  
_Me: Sometimes it just hits him_  
_Natalia: Okay see you later then_  
_Natalia: Youre totally being a human pillow right?_  
_Me: You dont have the clearance for that information_ _  
Natalia: Thats a yes_

The cheekiness is completely expected, but at least he got what he wanted, so he just sends a final message and puts his phone away.

_Me: You should expect Steve to invite you guys for saturday at the latest I think_

Bucky’s almost settled back to rest when he remembers the discussion started at Steve’s phone, and he picks it up and deletes the final message where she says they’re coming to visit in the morning. If Steve saw it he’d insist on inviting them, because he has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to his friends.

These days Bucky often thinks what truly makes one human is doing things that viewed through cold logic are stupid; things that are difficult and self-sacrificing, so important that one does them regardless of the possible personal cost. He knows maybe better than anyone that Steve is pretty much a champion at such things. Most of the time Bucky lets him, because it’s not really about letting, it’s that stopping Steve would mean restricting his choices, and after seven decades having his mind enslaved Bucky’s come to think that maybe the greatest possible show of trust is to let someone act on what they deem important, foolish though it might seem.

And maybe it’s his own selfishness then, or maybe this is his own stupidity, protecting Steve in a way he can that won’t end up costing. Bucky would never make Steve not be there for his friends if they truly needed him, even if Steve was dead on his feet. A communal breakfast though, that can be skipped on occasion, just to make sure Steve has enough to give when it counts.

They nap, and they eat something more filling than pastries, and end the night in the bathtub, Steve resting against Bucky who works on the tension at his neck. The metal fingers are good for kneading out kinks now that he has a new hand dexterous enough that he can control the pressure so that it’s just right.

When they get to bed Steve crawls in without bothering to find anything to wear, a sure sign he’s beat. Bucky thinks it’s probably an ingrained habit, that Steve automatically wears something to bed, even if it’s just a tank top and boxers, even on those nights that they’re likely to come off before they even manage to fall asleep. During the cold months even long sleeves aren’t that uncommon, even though those nights Steve tends to end up throwing the covers off himself, which adds to Bucky’s suspicion that he’s not physically cold.

For Bucky nightclothes are a more complicated thing than they should be, really. During the day there’s no problem but at night it’s different. Sometimes clothes make him twitchy, sometimes he can’t stand being without when it’s time to go to sleep. This night the issue has decided to take a rest, so Bucky follows Steve’s example and gets in naked. He curls around Steve, arranging them chest to back.

He’s not at all surprised this time either that Steve is out in seconds.

Bucky is still awake three hours later. He’s half sitting up, reclining on the pillows, Steve’s face pressed against his side and an arm thrown across his waist. He hadn’t expected to sleep either; by now this is familiar.

Every time Steve is away over night, the next night at home Bucky doesn’t sleep. He’s tried to come up with a reason for it, because it feels completely backward to be able to sleep just fine when he’s alone, just as he did the previous night, and then not when everything is perfect and Steve is there. Sometimes he suspects his subconsciousness is just clingy, needing to make sure Steve really is there and didn’t disappear for good. It’s both embarrassing if he thinks about it, and ironic. After all, out of the two of them he’s definitely tended to be the more likely to just up and leave.

Not anymore though. He huffs a silent laughter because at the thought in his mind eye Steve raises an eyebrow, an expression speaking as loudly as words, and Bucky has to amend in his thoughts, not permanently. He can’t deny he does have a tendency to take off occasionally without telling Steve, but at least it’s only for a few days at a time, and he always, always comes back.

After he’s been gone Steve seems to sleep just fine, even if he does make rather a more determined impression of an octopus than usual.

The hours pass by without Bucky really counting them. The sunrise finds him on his back, Steve’s head resting on his left arm on a corner of a pillow, arm still thrown over Bucky and their legs tangled. Steve wakes up slowly, blinks at Bucky for a few times before he seems to process anything.

“You didn’t sleep,” Steve says, his voice raspy from sleep, a statement rather than a question. He too knows Bucky is entirely predictable on these nights.

“Apparently not.”

“Next time I’m taking you with me,” Steve mutters and rubs his nose at Bucky’s shoulder.

“To a security convention? I’m sure everyone would be thrilled about that,” Bucky says, letting his voice get dry. Steve knows he’s laughing, and mock bites him at jaw.

“Come on, up,” Steve says and pushes himself to sit. “We’re going running.”

Bucky makes a show of reluctance. “You know I’m not a morning runner.”

“You say you’re not a morning anything, and yet you end up joining me fairly regularly. Besides, you didn’t sleep, so technically it’s not morning in the context of you being slow to wake up.”

Bucky’s not at his sharpest either, since he fails to come up with a comeback for that, and instead ends up hauling himself up and to the closet for his running gear.

It’s a beautiful morning, and Bucky is actually happy he joined Steve, not that he’ll ever admit it. When they round the last corner, Steve comes to an abrupt halt, and Bucky bursts out laughing when he sees the reason.

“What?” Steve asks, staring like he can’t believe his own eyes.

Bucky laughs harder.

“Why is there a gift-basket on our doorstep?”

It is a gift basket, and a very flamboyant one indeed. Bucky suspects the contents in this one are more high quality than in the ones at malls during holidays. He picks it up and holds the door for Steve.

“It’s because Natalia insists on having the last word.” At Steve’s questioning look he adds, “I’ll tell you over breakfast.”

Inside Bucky leaves the basket on the counter, and then pushes against Steve and pulls him into a kiss. It’s the first proper one since Steve came home, and if Bucky has an occasion to think about it, the shapes their physicality manifests tend to strike him as funny. For all that they now have this added level of physical closeness that comes with sex, they’ve been comfortable around each other for much longer. That kind of closeness still remains too, and sometimes they fall into older patterns where they look more like friends or brothers, although weirdly at ease physically with each other at least by current standards. There are other days when they don’t really manage to put on clothes at all. If Bucky does think about it, he usually lets it go soon enough, shrugging it off. It doesn’t really matter how things might look to other people. They are happy and it’s all that matters. This is what works for them.

When Bucky starts to walk Steve backward to the bathroom, Steve pulls away a bit.

“Shouldn’t we unpack it, in case there’s something that needs to be put in cold?”

“Please, as if Natalia wouldn’t have prepared.”

Bucky’s reasoning convinces Steve, who now pulls him towards bathroom, stripping off his shirt as he goes. They give each other slow and sloppy handjobs as they stand under the spray, kissing all the while, and then help each other clean up.  

Natalia had indeed thought about proper cooling and insulation with the packing, and the basket turns out to contain a hearty breakfast for the two of them. There’s fresh fruit, bagels with cream cheese and lox, deviled eggs, and cupcakes, just the same kinds she’d brought along that December morning after the first night Bucky’d stayed at Steve’s place.

Now it’s their home.

Steve laughs at the card that says, _Make your own coffee,_ and goes to work on it while Bucky sets the table.

Over the breakfast Bucky tells Steve about the messages from last night, and Steve pretends to frown at seeing the mock threat about shooting at her. He’s smiling really, so Bucky knows he’s not disappointed at having the morning to just the two of them.

“She’ll probably want to try and see if she really can break through our security one of these days,” Bucky notes.

Steve shrugs. “Maybe we should let her.”

“Really?”

“Bet we could get her and Tony compete over it. If she can get in, he’ll be honor bound to upgrade the system,” Steve grins.

“Only that would mean they’d be around here all the time.”

“Good point, it would get tiresome. Maybe we should have a designated time-frame, one attempt at burglary every three months. That’s about as often as Tony updates the system anyway.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment while he munches on his cupcake. “Are you going to believe her if she promises not to break in without permission though? If it turns out she can.”

Steve acknowledges the question with a quirk of his mouth, knowing exactly why Bucky’s asking. “Yeah, I am. I decided I’d trust her with my life long before now, so. What about you?”

“I can throw her out of the window if it gets too annoying, good enough for me,” Bucky says, and Steve kicks his leg under the table.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/).


End file.
